The Way Of Love
by Emilee
Summary: Matsi is a loud, annoying, obnoxious handmaiden with too much time on her hands used to help Grima Wormtongue become more socially acceptable. That's it. Matsi pities the poor guy...that's all...just pity... ::Currently Inactive::
1. Of introductions, opinions, & nicknames

**The Way of Love**

_The way of love is not_

_A subtle argument._

_The door there_

_Is devastation_

_Birds make great sky-circles_

_Of their freedom._

_How do they learn it?_

_They fall, and falling,_

_They're given wings._

- Rumi

**- Chapter One -  
of introductions, opinions and nicknames**

I had never noticed her before. She was Éowyn's handmaiden, with her most of the time, but she'd always been overlooked by my eyes.

Her name escaped me. It was her mistress my thoughts were fixed on, so what did the poor servant girl's name matter to me?

Nothing.

For years my heart belonged only to Éowyn. Nothing else in the world mattered, only Éowyn. Her golden hair and bright blue eyes were angelic to me. I supposed it was her appearance and good-spirit rivaled mine so that I loved her. If I ever truly loved her at all.

I noticed the handmaiden one evening just as I was being once again rejected by my goddess. We were the three of us in the study with the sun dimming through the windows. I don't know why when I looked away my eyes fell on the servant, but suddenly I realized that Éowyn and I were not the only two beings in the room.

Suddenly I wondered when else I had looked over this servant girl while Éowyn was telling me off. I panicked, thinking of how much she must have seen, how many horrible features about myself she must have been told by Éowyn.

She must have known what a snake I was.

But when I looked at her, I saw that her eyes were clear. I expected her to glare or sneer, or simply avoid my gaze as almost everyone did, but her eyes studied me, thoughtful and accepting.

I didn't understand.

For the first time I was in the presence of my Lady Éowyn, she was speaking to me directly, no doubt listing my flaws, but I was not listening. I almost didn't notice Éowyn was there.

Then the princess pushed past me on her way out the door, and my gaze upon the servant girl was broken as I watched my love leave the room in a hurry. When I turned back to look at the servant girl she was looking at me, but then cast her gaze to what she was dusting. I wondered why she didn't follow Éowyn as I fell into a chair in the corner, bringing a hand across my eyes and closing them, feeling tired and weary.

I didn't know how long I sat there. I could hear Éowyn's handmaiden moving about the study. I wished she would go. I wished she would leave me to my self-loathing misery.

But then, she spoke to me. "You know...to me, it seems like it's all what the southerners call a 'wild goose chase' my lord."

My hand dropped from my eyes and I stared at her, narrowing my eyes.

She was a short, slight, messy excuse for a woman with wild hair whose color I couldn't place. Brown, blonde, red- all colors blended together her hair was, and her eyes a bright and burning blue. She was smaller than Éowyn, her curves were unseen from under the loose dress she wore but her face held a round, plump light that made her blue eyes brighter and more swaggering.

She was grinning, the bitch, not even trying to hide the fact that she thought I was funny. Hysterical, most likely. She'd probably been watching me as she worked while I wasn't looking, mocking and teasing me in her mind. Judging and ridiculing.

And all this time I'd thought she had an accepting look about her.

"But of course, that is only my opinion." She added, sitting in a chair across from me, as if I'd actually like to have a conversation with a back-talking peasant!

I stood up, moving my heavy robes from my way, and started for the door, not looking at her. "Perhaps filthy servants best keep their opinions to themselves."

"Oh well don't take your leave on account of me, good sir. I would not desire that. I'll go about my duties and keep my presence to myself if you'd like to stay." She called to me, just as I put my hand on the doorknob.

My curiosity got the best of me, damn emotions, and I turned to look at her. She'd moved from the chair and was doing what must have been the best she could at keeping to herself as she dusted the books, but she'd look up at me ever so often to see if I was still there.

I knew I should have gone, but my damned inquisitiveness kept me there, walked me to the bookshelf, forced me to pick up some unknown title and sat me down in the chair again. I read, but didn't read. I pretended to as I watched this curious creature of a woman.

The long silence stretched on, and just as it was becoming unbearable, she looked up at me, "So you don't wish my advice on Lady Éowyn?"

"Advice?" I hissed through my teeth, feeling my muscles tense and my eyes narrow. Who did this girl think she was?

"Well, first you'd have to show just a wee bit of manners and ask me of my name." She replied, her shoulders shrugging easily as she stopped dusting and turned to face me.

I stood up. This was a game she was trying to play on me, somehow ending in laughing in my face no doubt, and I wasn't going to sit there and let it happen. I made for the door.

"Fine fine, it's Matséona, if you're too cowardly to ask. Ye Valar, I'm only a servant girl, no need to get yourself riled up for." She laughed, watching my back as I left.

Growling, I turned back to her. "How dare you. Have you no respect for the king's royal advisor, peasant?" I spat, furious with myself for even arguing with her.

"I'm only trying to help you, good lord." Matséona tilted her head slightly to the side innocently, but I knew that trick.

"You are trying to play me for a fool, girl, but I will not be fooled." I retorted.

She shrugged again, looking away from me and to a portrait of Éowyn hanging on the wall. I followed her gaze there, then looked at her, my face burning with anger. She raised her thin eyebrows at me, "It seems to me, Lord Wormtongue, that you are already fooled."

Gritting my teeth together, I glared at her, "How so?"

"Well, if you think that Éowyn ever going to accept your offers of love and whatnot, then I'd say you are greatly fooled." Matséona replied, then tilted her head to the side again and smiled a bit at me, and I felt my anger multiply upon her cocky gaze. "Call me Matsi, by the way."

-

He made me laugh. I felt a deep swell of pity of course for the obviously quite disturbed man, but that was deep down. The more natural instinct for me was to laugh.

I've always thought laughter was what life is all about. I've laughed through most of my life, even when I dealt a rough hand, and I've had quite the nice life, if I do say so myself.

At least I knew my life was better than Gríma Wormtongue's.

Éowyn was yelling at him again. She could go on like this for hours, I knew. I had seen it before. But I was relieved to see that Gríma did not really seem to be listening.

He was an odd creature. His dark hair was eternally damp and greasy, his skin was like the moon on a day when you can see it clearer than the stars, white and pale, his eyes were cold blue, lighter than those of any Rohirrim.

I wondered about him then, as he stood looking pained at Éowyn's accusations. What had he gone through? It was odd, never had I paid much attention to King Théoden's advisor until just then, just when he seemed to notice me.

He was looking at me strangely. I could tell he was wondering about me, who I was and why I was standing there. He'd probably realize that I was Éowyn's maid soon enough, and maybe he'd remember seeing me before.

I had always made myself busy when he would arrive to speak to my mistress. I have always been easily distracted anyway so this was not much of a chore. I feared that if I listened to his soft, snakelike voice I would laugh at his words.

I smiled at him, but Éowyn pushed past him and I do not believe he noticed it. Once he recovered from the stumble he'd taken when my lady bumped into him he looked up at me, but I busied myself with the dusting.

He sat down. I felt him sit down and when I looked to him he had put his hands over his face. Poor creature. I pitied him, but at the same time I didn't. He was a snake, everyone said so. I was sure he had a horrible life, but it wasn't fair for him to take it out on other people, which I'd seen him do many times when he thought I wasn't there.

Everyone but Éowyn he'd snap at. He had probably done it to me once or twice, but I did not take mind to it. It was irritating how people in Edoras carried on about how strange and frightening this man was, when really I thought they should simply mind their own business.

Of course, where I think others should mind their own business, I let myself snoop as much as I please.

"You know...to me, it seems like it's all what the southerners call a 'wild goose chase' my lord." I piped up, not really noticing I was saying it out loud until he looked up and dropped his hand from his eyes.

I thought he might jump up and hit me, with that look he was giving me, staring and narrowing his eyes. He seemed speechless, which wasn't really a surprise. I tend to have that effect on men.

Grinning, I shrugged and swept the feather duster over the desk a few more times, "But of course, that is only my opinion." I added, plopping down in the chair across from Gríma and giving him a thoughtful look.

At that comment and my sitting down, the man made quite the show of standing up and angrily swishing his robes from around his legs where they were tangled. He swept towards the door in a graceful, frightening saunter that made me really watch him hard.

"Perhaps filthy servants best keep their opinions to themselves." He hissed as he hurried off, and I stood up and glared at his retreating back.

I was a lot of things, obnoxious, yes; annoying, most of the time; rude, maybe; beautiful, of course; but I was no filthy servant, I'll tell you that much, and I wasn't about to let this pitiful excuse for a man speak that of me.

So I did the worst thing I could think of, I beckoned him to say. "Oh well don't take your leave on account of me, good sir." I said in the sweetest tone possible, "I would not desire that. I'll go about my duties and keep my presence to myself if you'd like to stay."

My words stopped him. His hand was on the doorknob, but I saw him snatch it back into his robes. He turned to look at me, and saw that I was busy dusting the books.

He stood there a long while, staring at me. It was a bit unnerving with him watching me, but I'd look up every once in a while to not make my nervousness to obvious, and to see if he was still standing there.

I didn't look when he stormed over to the bookshelf, and though he was right next to me we didn't share a glance as he snatched a book without looking at it and sat down to read.

Wishing I'd just let him go as the silence stretched on, I actually got quite a bit accomplished. Éowyn would wonder why I hadn't followed her when she left, but she'd like all the work I was doing in the study. I was convinced that Gríma Wormtongue was the only being in the castle who actually used the library, but it was still dustier than any room in the hall. I wanted to open the great window that Gríma was sitting in front of, but I kept that desire inside myself.

"So you don't wish my advice on Lady Éowyn?" I blurted out, sick of all the silence and tension in the room.

But if I hadn't wanted tension I shouldn't have spoken, because it must have doubled when Gríma looked up at me. "Advice?" he hissed, his voice sounding even more cruel and impatient than ever I'd heard it.

I shrugged and stopped dusting, "Well, first you'd have to show just a wee bit of manners and ask me of my name." I replied, knowing he wouldn't ask me my name if I got down on my knees and begged him to.

Gríma stood up then, an once again made for the door, but I liked this game, and I wasn't ready to end it just yet. "Fine fine, it's Matséona, if you're too cowardly to ask. Ye Valar, I'm only a servant girl, no need to get yourself riled up for."

That was a bit of a mistake, but was easily covered up by my laughter and Gríma's growling as he turned on his heels and glared furiously at me.

"How dare you. Have you no respect of the king's royal advisor, peasant?"

"I'm only trying to help you, good lord." I smiled sweetly and cocked my head slightly to the side, giving him an innocent look that was much practiced, and much affective.

"You are trying to play me for a fool, girl, but I will not be fooled." He replied to me smartly. His wit matched mine perfectly, and I knew that this was going to be the start of a lovely irritating…er…acquaintance.

I shrugged, and glanced at the portrait of Lady Éowyn that was handing on the wall to the left of me. I knew that if I merely hinted to him, he'd understand, and when I looked back at him he was red with anger. I raised my eyebrows at him, "It seems to me, Lord Wormtongue, that you are already fooled."

It was easy to see how furious he was with me. His eyes were colder than ever and burning with anger, "How so?"

Shrugging once again I shook my head and replied as if it was obvious, "Well, if you think that Éowyn's ever going to accept your offers of love and whatnot, then I'd say you are greatly fooled."

Then I tilted my head to the side again and smiled a bit at him, "Call me Matsi, by the way."


	2. Of annoyance, nail filing, & a proposal

**- Chapter Two -  
of annoyance, nail filing, and a proposal**

After meeting her, I couldn't seem to go anywhere without her showing up some way or another.

It was as if her dying wish was to beleaguer me until I gave in and listened to whatever it was she wanted me to know so badly.

After her introduction in the library, where she'd stated her name and business, I left the room quickly, hoping not to get further involved with this cocky, back-talking little bitch.

But it seemed there was nothing I could do to stop her.

"Gríma, really. It wouldn't take much just to listen to my opinion on her, would it? It could even help you out in the end, what do you say?"

My teeth gnashed together as I looked up from the book I was studying. It had been four days since our first meeting, and I'd avoided her a countless amount of times, but here she had me cornered.

Matséona was standing in the doorway to the library. I wondered what she would do if I merely looked back into my book and made no move to reply.

It never did work to ignore her.

"I know you're trying to ignore me. You can't just shove all your problems in a drawer like some----you know----type of person----you have to face them head on or you'll never get anywhere."

Trying my best to control it, I lost and glared at her with what I knew was a infuriated scowl. "What do you know of it? Nothing. Get out. I wish for my solitude."

She laughed. She had a loud, lively chuckle that made me sick. It wasn't right for a person to be so cheerful after being insulted, which was exactly what I was trying to do to her.

"Oh dear, you are a sad sight to be sure." She snorted a bit in her laugh and that only made her laughter persist.

I rolled my eyes. If I was a sad sight I didn't want to know what that made her, the useless creature was standing there laughing at her own self, how pathetic.

I got up and left her there laughing.

-

"You know, my lord, perchance all King Théoden needs is a lovely bowl of soup or……………"

I groaned and tore my eyes from the King. There was Matséona, bundles of laundry in hand, smirking at me. Pursing my lips, I narrowed my eyes at her, "Might I direct you in the direction of the wash room, servant girl?"

It was a small victory seeing her scowl at that comment, but she soon made up for it by grinning again and reaching to her pocket for something. I watched her curiously and flinched when she produced what looked to me like a flattened piece of wood from that pocket.

Frowning, I watched her as she set down the laundry and walked over to the throne where I sat next to the King. It was then I realized what she had in her hand was a nail file, and she was looked sorrowfully at me as she took Théoden's hand in her own and displayed to me his long, dirty nails.

Without a moment's hesitation I snatched the file from her hand and studied her with a look of disbelief, "What are you doing girl?"

She merely raised her eyebrows at me and gave me this mocking, ridiculing look that made me feel three and a half inches tall, at least. "Well if everyone else is simply going to pretend that Théoden doesn't have disgusting nails, then I'll have to be the one to do something about it, won't I?"

I gawked at her, and she took this advantage to seize the file from me and turn her attention to Théoden's nails. All ideas for a comeback leaked from my mind and I all I could do was sit there and watch her work away at the King's hands.

It was obvious that she was practiced in nail management, I gave her that much. But it was grating that she held my attention so easily.

After a few moments of silence, she looked up at me as she worked, "You might have prevented this you know. There really isn't a great deal I can do besides file them down." She wrinkled her nose, "How long has it been since he's had a bath?"

I stared at her, knowing that my gaze was unnerving to most everyone.

"Oh will you stop with the haunting look? 'Tisn't doing you any good, I can tell you that much." Matséona replied with a raise of her eyebrows. "You do not scare me one bit Gríma Wormtongue, so you'd be well off to stop trying."

My face burned with embarrassment and rage, I stood up and took a handful of my robes in my hand, stepping down from the throne. Matséona paid no heed to my doings and simply kept filing Théoden's nails.

"Come down from there, girl!" I hissed to her, gesturing wildly with my hands when she turned to look at me. Her innocent smile was not deceiving to me, and I glared until she put the file back in her pocket and moved down the steps to face me.

The two of us stood there in silence, both trying not to look away in our stubborn silent showdown. Then all of the sudden she had the file back out of her pocket and my hand she snatched up and began filing.

My reaction was slowed from my astonishment, but I pulled back from her grasp and gave her a sidelong look. She was frowning, "Your hands are freezing."

"What business is it of yours?" I retorted, cupping my other hand around the one she had touched.

Her eyebrows raised, "There is no reason to get angry, my lord. It was only an honest observation."

I raised my chin to her, looking down upon her for the real servant she was, but it didn't seem to bother her, "Didn't I command not to hear any of your opinions?"

"Opinions, yes, but you never spoke anything of observations."

"The washing you left there on the floor, doesn't it need tending to?" I snapped, frustrated with my lack of verbal abuse.

Matséona smiled, "Wouldn't you like to further enjoy my company Lord Gríma?"

"Enjoy?" I grunted a sarcastic reply. "I enjoy your company no more than you would enjoy a knife's point."

She almost looked bothered to me, dropping her hands to her sides, the file still handing limply in one. I turned and made for the first door in sight before I'd listen to her speak again.

"Then there is no way we could be friends?" her smooth voice beckoned from behind me.

Matséona's words stopped me. With my back still turned from her, I rubbed my hands together and studied the floor. What was she trying to tell me? Could it be a trick she was playing on me? Would I somehow end up laughed at, scorned, teased?

When I turned to look at her she was smiling benevolently, but with all the laughter and mocking that she always had. Perhaps she was serious. But why would she want me as a friend?

"Why do you ask this of me? This, alliance that you speak of. What is there in it for you?" I finally questioned.

She shook her head, "It is no alliance that I wish for. I speak of friendship, Gríma. There is indeed a difference."

My eyes rolled automatically, and she smiled a bit, drawing her brows in close together, "I want to help you."

"Help me what? What could you, a poor servant girl, possibly do for me, rather than wash my clothes or turn back the bedcovers before night falls?" I replied softly.

Matséona laughed, "Help you with what?" She repeated sarcastically. "Help you not to be such a bloody alarming, horrendously uneducated excuse for a man, naturally!"

My eyes blazed and I felt anger rise though me, "Uneducated? I'll have you know-"

"Oh yes, yes, you can read and write and whatnot, but the education I'm speaking of is a social education- how to converse with people without scaring them away or coming off as too smart for your own good, that's what you need, is it not?"

My rage was incontrollable, I loathed her more than I ever thought possible. How dare she speak to me in such an boastful tone! I wasn't about to allow this.

But what came out of my mouth was not what I expected by any means. "Agreed. Go off, be gone, I'm done with you. Do not seek me for at least a day or without more ado my mind will change, I assure you."


	3. Trusting the Snake

**- Chapter Three -  
trusting the snake**

I blinked. What had he said? Had I actually pestered the poor bloke long enough for him to _agree_ with me?

It was shocking, yes, but I have never been one to find myself speechless. I thrust out my hand to him as he was turning away. "Shake on it. We're friends, shake on it."

He looked at my hand as if it was something horrifying and appalling, but his expression slowly changed to look up at me and on his face was neither a scowl or a frown, which was most unexpected. He took my hand and shook it, I noted on how weak his handshake was, and decided to mention it at a later date.

Releasing his hand, I smiled at him. "Never fear, Lord Wormtongue, this won't be painful in the least."

-

That was the beginning. The rest came and went easily, without a hitch, hardly.

-

It was probably the most obedient thing I've ever done in my life, but I stayed away from Gríma for the rest of the day and the day following, as he'd asked me to.

But of course two days anon and I was back to bumping into him quite often.

I knew that Gríma wasn't the type of person to pounce on, and I'd been lucky that I'd gotten away with what I'd forced him into so far, so I kept the friendship bit going slowly. After a few weeks Gríma was slowly getting used to me, though it hadn't taken me nearly as long to get used to him.

But then, I've always been prompt to adapt to things. I wasn't originally from Rohan. My father, Eru bless him, was of Aldburg and my mother of Gondor, and when I was very young we came to Rohan. My parents became very good friends of Éowyn and Éomer's parents, and were at absolutely all of their parties. Unfortunately my parents were a tad too wild and adventurous.

I was all set to become a noble woman of Rohan at thirteen, until my parents squandered all of my inheritance in one night and sorrowfully returned to Aldburg after making certain that my future as Éowyn's handmaiden was secured. Sweet of them, eh?

Washing dishes was not my responsibility as Éowyn's maid, but the poor lass who usually cleaned up after the King had his supper looked faint, so out of the goodness of my heart I took over for her. What a hard job that girl of ten had, I never knew how hard it was until I did it for her.

First, there was scrubbing the dishes- then along with that I had to mop the kitchen floor, wipe down the tables and put away all the food that the cooks had kindly left me on the counter tops. At the rate I was going I would never get any sleep.

My back was aching as I mopped the kitchen, and I was so wrapped up in dreaming about my comfortable bed and warm chambers that I didn't hear whoever came into the kitchen open the door. The footsteps came up behind me and I started, spinning around and swinging the mop like a mad person.

"Who is it?!" I yelled, batting the mop around and hoping to hit someone.

When I finally came to my senses, Gríma was standing just out of reach of the mop and looking at me as if I were demented. Along with his apparent concern for my sanity, he was attempting to hide a half loaf of bread and some cheese behind his back, looking a touch embarrassed that he'd been caught with it.

"Stop your vile racket, woman! You'll wake the whole of Rohan with that screech." Gríma hissed, glaring at me.

I forced myself to breathe, and pressed a hand to my chest as I steadied my breathing. "Perhaps you should stop sneaking up on people like you do. You frightened me."

"I tend to have that effect on people." Gríma said softly, regrettably. I wondered why he was still here, on all our previous meetings he'd tried to escape as quickly as possible. Perhaps I had frightened him too and that's why he didn't flee as usual.

As soon as this thought crossed my mind, Gríma began backing out of the kitchen and I made no move to stop him. Though I did raise a question, which he would most likely choose to ignore, "Do you often steal food from the kitchen in the middle of the night, or did you just wish to seek me out?"

Moving to pick up the mop where I had rested it against the table when he surprised me, out of the corner of my eye I could see Gríma staring at me, turned halfway to the door. I could tell he was working out an answer to this as he turned to face me and stopped hiding the goods behind his back.

"It is more likely, Matséona, that I would wish to _avoid_ this sort of engagement, than go in quest of your presence." Gríma shot back, his voice a usual hushed whisper and his head cocked to the side slightly.

The smile I fixed on him was maddening to his sight, I was sure, all the more reason to use it in my defense. "You do not truly mean that, dear Gríma, do you?"

"Of course I do, girl!" Gríma hissed, "And you will call me Lord-" He broke off. I knew he hated the name Wormtongue, I knew it.

"Wormtongue, is the word you are seeking, is it not?"

Seething, Gríma was silent, his cold blue eyes narrowing into tiny menacing slits.

"Or shall I call you Lord Quiet-Tongue, for you do not seem to be ready with an answer?" I mused, pausing in my work and leaning on the mop. As I lifted my brows and waited for an answer, I wished there were more light in the drafty kitchen, for I could not see all of Gríma's expressions.

Gríma's fingers gripped the bread he was holding tighter, until I was sure it would crumble, "Call me what you wish, for if Eru is with me I shall not be troubled with your presence again."

With that and a looming stare, Gríma swept from the kitchen, leaving me to sigh and continue my work, hoping that it would not take too much of my sleeping time to finish.

-

"I would not bring it up lest I thought it was of grave importance, Matsi, you _must_ be careful around that man. Lord Wormtongue is not to be trusted." Éowyn was darting around the room like a scared rabbit, pestering me as I prepared her newly washed sheets for sleeping in.

Whipping the sheet into the air and watching it float to the mattress, a smile flickered across my already cheerful face, "Then it is very agreeable that I do not put my trust in him, eh?"

Éowyn flinched. She had been trying to teach me to stop my habit of putting 'eh?' at the end of my sentences for some time now. I had picked up the custom from my father when he was alive and could not seem to stop it, so I smiled apologetically after it slipped again.

But Éowyn's annoyance with my grammar did not phase her from continuing in her quest to educate me in my friendship with the King's advisor. Darting after me as I went to the closet for one of the heavy woolen blankets she was fond of sleeping with, Éowyn's eyes were at their roundest, "The why do you insist on striving to claim friendship to the man?"

"Because he is-" Pausing, I tossed the blanket on the bed and bent to tuck in the sheets tightly, "-much more interesting than anyone else in the fort-" I stood, and took Éowyn's hands in my own, speaking dramatically, "-and it will only keep him from harassing you in the future!"

She knew my sarcasm when she heard it and pulled her hands from my grasp. I laughed. Éowyn looked hurt, "So you are saying that he is the only person of interest left in Rohan?"

"I am saying that he is different. You know me Éowyn, I am intrigued by what is different." There was no 'milady' name calling between the princess and I, our relationship had been purely friendship before I was appointed as her maid, and hardly anything had changed due to my own stubbornness.

Finishing my work on her bed, I looked to Éowyn, who was standing there watching me looking somewhat dumbfounded. I took her by the shoulders and led her to the bed where I made her sit, then I smiled at her, "Now I must go to finish the rest of my duties, try not to hurt yourself thinking about it too hard. Have my doings ever made much sense?"

-

I had not expected a warm greeting from Gríma's bedroom when I burst in a morning three days after our kitchen conversation. It was not early enough for him to still be asleep, and thankfully he had dressed all ready or I was sure I would never be heard from again. Instead he was seated at his desk, quill in hand, dressed in black, appeared to be writing a letter.

Gríma's head shot up upon my entry and I smiled at him but as usual did not receive the same greeting. He sneered, setting down his quill but not bothering to stand, watching me standing in the doorway expectantly, "I wonder what it is you think you are doing, handmaiden?"

"Only taking your bedding to be washed Lord Wormtongue," The door shut behind me as I hurried to the bed, being sure to put an emphasis on his name as I spoke, "Unless you would like the sheets to remain grimy, is that what you wish, m'lord?"

A glare was shot in my direction, "Take them, quickly."

Of course this meant that I would take as much time as I possibly could, folding the sheets to extend my stay in his room. Gríma seemed determined to ogle at me intently until I made my leave instead of returning to his letter, which he had considerately covered up. His stare really did not bother me, as it would only anger him more for me to take my time.

"Folding the sheets seems a bit unnecessary does it not?" Gríma finally snapped as I tugged off each sheet and blanket and folded them nicely. "You shall only throw them in the wash anyway, why waste the time?"

My smile was hardly noticeable as I flicked my wrist to whip the wrinkles out of the sheet. "Only doing my job, m'lord."

"Stop calling me that." Gríma said so softly it was hard to hear him.

Pausing in my work I looked up at him, smiling, "Sorry?"

"Call me Lord Gríma or call me nothing."

"As you wish 'Nothing'."

"Masti…"

"You called me Matsi!"

"I should think not. You imagined it."

"You did. I heard you."

"Back to work, servant girl." Gríma snapped harshly, but he was smiling.

_Smiling._

_Matsi takes a bow. _


	4. Teaching the Peasant

**- Chapter Four -  
teaching the peasant**

To be perfectly honest, I was getting used to her. This meaning that whenever there was a sudden knock on my door, or more likely the door burst open abruptly, there was hardly a moment of confusion for me. It was certain to be Matséona.

I was not sure who tidied my room and took my sheets to be washed before, but Matsi was doing it now, and more than necessary as well. Her interruptions were to be expected, but never the less always at an inopportune time. More often than not, I was not in a well mood to be near her cheerful manner.

Letters to Saruman, words of the return of the Dark Lord and the coming war with orcs filled my mind, but then I somehow made room to entertain the whims of the servant girl. It was absurd. Every day as I sat in my chambers studying, I made an oath with myself that I would not humor Matséona the next time, but every time I found myself awaiting her intrusion with less than a heavy heart.

My mind was consumed with the words dripping from my quill as I sat scratching out a letter to the White Wizard in my small scrabble. If and when Matséona burst into the room I would most certainly be ready with a demand for her absence. This was definite.

I jumped ever so slightly when a soft knock came upon my door. Frowning, I carefully hid the parchment I was writing on, and replaced my quill in the ink. My fingers curled around the candle at my door, a necessary source of light even though it was late afternoon. It was summer and the storms were setting in again, clouds covering the sky.

It would not be her, not knocking softly. This was something I doubted she would do. It was an eerie feeling opening the door with the thunder clapping outside, not knowing who stood on the other side.

"If it is the servant girl, then I should ask her to-" My words halted when the light revealed the angelic face of Éowyn outside of my door. Eyes rounding, I opened the door wider for her tilting my head to the side in curiosity, "Lady Éowyn, what do I owe your visit?"

Difficult it was to keep my calm approach when my eyes found Matsi standing just behind her mistress. For the second time ever, I smiled at the servant girl, but only due to the presence of Lady Éowyn.

Éowyn looked meek, standing there in a pure white dress that nearly matched the color of her pale skin. Her eyes must have been wider than mine and she would only walk in as far as through the doorway, careful to be sure Matsi was still behind her.

"We have come to ask of you a favor, Lord Wormtongue." Éowyn said softly, eyes darting back to Matsi as the servant girl stepped to her lady's side.

"Anything for your highness." I replied with a soft smile, my curiosity burning. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Matsi smirk, but dare not look at her and break my concentration on Lady Éowyn.

Éowyn nodded to Matséona and my heart sank, so the request did pertain to the girl, "Matséona has never learned to read, and I wish for her to be taught. Would you teach her, Lord Wormtongue?"

Eru help me. There had to be a way out of this. My features remained calm, but inside I was searching for a way out. Of course! Théoden!

"Though it would be most…educational for me as well, I am afraid that my duty resides in helping your uncle the king through this hard time. Someone must nurse our ruler back to health." I replied smoothly, a bit disturbed by the constant smile on Matséona's face.

Éowyn shook her head, "It would be my duty to watch over my uncle while you educate my ser- Matséona. I beg you, Lord Wormtongue, the time spent with my uncle means a great deal to me, as does Matsi's education."

And what, pray tell, does one say to that? How could I turn down the woman I loved? Simple answer was, I could not. I nodded, "But of course, Lady Éowyn. The servant girl shall be taught."

Addressing Matséona as 'the servant girl' seemed to get her on edge, as her smile wavered ever so slightly, so I was indeed given a small satisfaction in that. Almost instantly after my agreement, however, Éowyn had vanished, Matséona with her, and I was again left alone in the storm.

When I was expected to commence these lessons was beyond me. But I was certain that Matséona would turn up eventually, ready to learn.

-

And she did. Matséona arrived the next morning, just after breakfast, when I was sitting at my desk reading a letter from a contact I had in Gondor. I looked over to her with a bored stare and she was not set off by it, she merely walked around me to look over my shoulder and see what it was I was reading.

My reflexes were stunted, surprised that she would attempt to invade my privacy so bluntly, but I eventually opened the drawer in my desk and shoved the letter inside, turning on her with cold eyes. "You will not read my personal letters."

"Many apologize, Lord Wormtongue- I mean, 'Nothing'." Matsi replied with a smile, moving around to the side of my chair and leaning her backside against the desk. "What shall I learn today, Professor?"

"I would wish you would learn your place, but that is unlikely." I muttered.

Matsi nodded, "You are quite perceptive, it is unlikely."

I raised my eyebrows at her, "And to learn manners is to difficult a task for you as well?"

She laughed, pushing off from the desk and causing my ink well to tip over. I cursed, but she didn't seem to notice as she looked around my chambers with an air of someone to grand for the place, "Out of the two of us, I am not the one failing in manners."

"Are you accusing me of-" I began, shocked. How could she dare claim to exceed in etiquette if she supposed I failed in it? It was atrocious, especially as I sat cleaning the ink she spilled.

But I was interrupted, "Poor manners? Yes. But do not fear, m'lord, I can aid you in that. You teach me to read and I shall instruct you on kindness. Also, your handshake needs work. It is very weak, a strong handshake demonstrates that you are fearless and it also impresses women, to be honest."

I was already tired of what she had to say, but her next comment made it even more aggravating.

"I know for a fact that Lady Éowyn admires a strong handshake."

Standing from the table so fast that I feared I would knock over the ink well for the second time, I rounded on Matsi, who was fussing with the dark drapes over my window. I snatched her by the wrist as she made to open the window and let in the sun, and spun her to face me and looked her coldly in the eyes, "Matséona, if I am to educate you, I suggest that you do not anger me."

The corners of her lips twitched, and she suddenly had twisted her wrist around in my grasp and was shaking my hand, studying the way her hand looked in mine, "If I were to sit silent and not speak a word, you would be angered by my presence, m'lord. Now shake like a man."

Her comment startled me, but my mind seemed to know what to do as I squeezed her hand and shook it firmly, then dropped it. She was smiling, but I tried to avoid her gaze as my robes swished around me when I turned away. Closing my eyes, I walked the few paces to the desk and stood by it. I opened a book I had chosen for her to read and spun around, opening my eyes.

"Have a seat, we will begin."

"Agreed, you shall teach me now, and tomorrow when I return we will work on you again. I should think your table manners are ghastly."


End file.
